


Acknowledging the Fear

by TakeMeToTheRiot



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-13 00:36:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15352329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TakeMeToTheRiot/pseuds/TakeMeToTheRiot
Summary: Franky may have proved her innocence, but can things go back to how they were for her and Bridget?Just some conversations I wish we had gotten to see.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a long time since I wrote any fic, but Fridget withdrawals have got me in my feels! If this is terrible, feel free to tell me. If it's not, then I have a few more ideas of 'scenes I wish we had seen'.

As Bridget rounded the corner of the quiet ward, she could make out whispered voices coming from behind the drawn curtain at the end. As she tried to shuffle a little faster towards her destination, a mild panic came over her. She'd only been gone around 30 minutes and Franky had been fast asleep when she left to find the canteen and make phone calls. Surely nothing had gone wrong in that short time. Franky had come through the operation to remove the bullet as well as could be hoped, and after the initial euphoria they both had felt at the words “all charges dropped”, she had allowed the pain medication to lull her back to sleep. Bridget had sat beside her bed for almost 2 hours, gazing at the face she had been terrified she'd never see again, until her stomach reminded her she had not eaten all day and she snuck away in search of a snack.

“I’ll check, I promise.” was all she could make out, in a voice that definitely did not belong to Franky, as she gently pulled the curtain open.  
“Ahh, there we go. Problem solved!” said the same voice, that Bridget could now see belonged to a young nurse who had checked on Franky earlier.  
The soft “Gidge” that escaped Franky’s mouth was full of relief and a little of what Bridget suspected was panic. She suddenly regretted not telling a member of staff where she had been headed.  
“Hey baby”, she smiled as she dropped her bag next to her chair and reached for Franky’s hand, “I thought you would still be snoozing.”  
The nurse patted Franky’s bed and smiled at them both before taking her leave from their little cubicle. Bridget focused back on the teary looking brunette in front of her and silently thanked the universe once more for bringing them back together. 

Her reverie was broken when Franky squeezed her hand and started to speak.  
“I thought… well I woke up and… fuck I don't know. I thought you'd left.” Her voice trailed off and Bridget's heart broke a little at how vulnerable she looked. The strongest, bravest, most stubborn woman she had ever met looked afraid and weak and for a second her mind flashed back to a moment in her office at Wentworth. Franky, hands shoved into pockets, desperation evident in her voice as she told her she just wanted to hold her.

“God, baby, I'm sorry. I just went to find some food. It was only half an hour. I thought I'd come back to you still snoring!” She smiled and was relieved to see a tiny spark of brightness appear in Franky's eyes again.  
“S’ok. I think maybe I freaked out a little bit. I was about to send that nurse chick on a mission to find ya.”  
Bridget laughed softly and lifted Franky's hand so that the younger woman's palm was against her cheek. She felt Franky move her fingertips gently against her skin and exhaled at the contact.  
“Well, as much as I've enjoyed playing hide-and-seek with you for the last couple days”, Bridget wiggled her eyebrows and was rewarded with a grin, “I promise I was coming straight back. Just needed a sandwich. Oh, and I called Imogen like you asked.”  
“Yeah? What did she say?”  
“Well… after the initial shock that you'd “bloody gone and done it”, she was very happy and said she'd check with the police and, uh, someone else I can't remember, and she'd pop in and see you tomorrow. Oh and I spoke to your dad. He's going to get a sitter for Tess and come in later tonight.”  
Franky smiled and nodded, but as Bridget lowered their joined hands back down to the bed she noticed her bite her bottom lip and could tell she was still apprehensive.  
“You okay? I know it's all still a lot to process honey but you just have to concentrate on healing and let the rest of us sort things out.”  
At this Franky removed her hand from Bridget's and rubbed her face. She looked drained and Bridget was about to tell her she could go back to sleep but Franky spoke first.  
“When I woke up and you weren't here, I dunno, I started worrying it wasn't real. Like I was still dreaming, or dead or something.” The injured woman laughed to try and lighten what she was saying, but Bridget didn't fall for it. She tried to reassure her.  
“It is real though Franky. You're here and you're free. You did it.”  
Franky tilted her head and directed a soft, loving gaze at her partner.  
“You did it, more like.”  
Bridget sighed. “We did it then. Together. Yeah?”  
“Yeah, ok.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Bridget unsure of how to proceed. She had assumed Franky would still be on cloud nine but her mood had obviously dropped and it was more than just Bridget's little disappearing act that had done it. She decided to get her focus back on the future.  
“So, you'll probably be in here for a few more days at least. I'll bring in some of your own things tomorrow so that you can come home in your own clothes.”  
Franky glanced up at her and then quickly dropped her eyes back down to the end of her bed. Sensing she had to let the woman open up in her own time, Bridget sat back in her chair again and kept her expression neutral. 'Shrink face’ as Franky always called it.

Eventually she got her wish.  
“Do you want me to come home though?”  
The question was so softly spoken that Bridget almost missed it, but she suddenly had an idea of what was going on.  
“Baby… look at me.”  
Green eyes met hers, albeit reluctantly, and she reached for her hand again.  
“Every single day since you got arrested, all I have wanted is for you to come home. Every single day. Even when you were pushing me away, even once I'd resigned, all I wanted was to be able to wake up beside you in our bed again. Of course I want that.”  
Franky's eyes grew shiny and Bridget could tell she wasn't convinced yet.  
“But that's the thing, isn't it. I was awful to ya. I… god Gidge I hurt you, I put you up against a fuckin’ wall. And I'm so so sorry.”  
Bridget tried to interrupt, but Franky rushed on.  
“And I lied to you, to your face. But I swear I wasn't lying when I said it was for us. I just wanted to get out and be with you again. If I didn't have you I probably would have given up and just… but I had you and I had to try and get back to you, but that doesn't excuse what I did. Nothing will. And I'm so sorry.”

She had hoped this conversation would wait until they were both safe at home but the psychologist in her realised this was something that had been wedged between them and addressing it sooner rather than later might be for the best.

“Franky, not once in the months we were together did you ever get violent with me. Not when you were angry or lost, not when I pissed you off, not when you woke up from those bloody nightmares and your mind was back inside. I never felt threatened by you.” She stroked her love’s hand to make sure she was really listening to her. “But then I watched that place eat away at you again. You pulled away and closed up to protect yourself. And I knew that. I saw it happen. So the lies I understand. The coldness I understand. And what happened that day in your cell…” she took a deep breath, “Well it scared the hell out of me if I'm honest. I saw the old Franky instead of my Franky. The things you said were bullshit, we both knew that, but having that anger directed at me did scare me.”  
Franky winced and tried to pull her hand away but Bridget held tight.  
“Wait”, she pleaded. “I was scared but I knew what you were doing. I knew it was your last ditch attempt to push me away and let go of what we had. But it didn't happen Franky. If you had really wanted to hurt me, to rape me, you would have. You could have. But I didn't believe you would, and the second I properly pushed you away, you backed off and left me alone. You could have overpowered me in a second, but you didn't. Because you just wanted to get your message across, didn't you?”  
Tears were slowly falling down Franky's pale cheeks and a sniffle was the only response Bridget got.  
“So, what I'm trying to say is, if you promise that you'll never lay hands on me again, then I'll accept that and believe you.”  
“I promise Gidge! Of course I promise. I'm so sorry I put you through that. And I didn't want, fuck, of course I didn't want to rape you. I just thought if you were scared of me it would be safer for both of us. But I should never have gone that far. I'm so fuckin’ sorry.”

The older woman nodded and felt some invisible weight lift from her shoulders. She had needed to hear that apology. Probably more than she had realised. Her mind had replayed that day more than she'd care to admit, searching for the truth in Franky's actions. She thought she had made peace with it, but Franky's regret and sorrow over the event was something she hadn't known she needed to hear. 

“That's it then, ok? I forgive you. I don't think I'd have been telling the police to charge me for helping you earlier otherwise!” She widened her eyes to emphasise her point and it earned her an eyeroll.  
“You're an idiot for doing that. The last thing I wanted was you being arrested. But thank you. For everything, for all of it, for forgiving me. You've saved me more times than I can count now and I'll never deserve it.”  
Bridget exhaled as she stood up from her seat and leaned over to place a kiss on Franky's forehead. One day she would make this woman realise just how special and life-changing she had been for her.  
“I think you've earned a little bit of happiness baby.” She pushed some hair behind Franky's ear so that she could whisper into it, “Even if I don't have the hot car this time.”  
Franky laughed and wrapped her left arm around her girl’s shoulder, keeping her close.  
“I love you. And I can't wait to wake up beside you again.”  
Bridget lifted her head to meet Franky's gaze and hold it for a few seconds.  
“Good.”


	2. Reasonable Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one got away from me a little bit, but I hope it still does the characters justice. Please comment and give feedback if you feel like it! I have one more "convo" planned if people are still interested.  
> Thanks for reading.

Two weeks had passed since the cops had set Franky free, after they'd bloody shot her of course, and she was gradually adjusting to her situation. She'd been released after five days in hospital and Bridget had taken more time off work to ferry her around and be her personal nurse, even though her ankle still wasn't 100%. But it had allowed the couple the time to have some painful, honest conversations with each other. There were tears and apologies, but just a week of being home with her - “their home” as Bridget had reassured her -  found the pair falling into happy little routines like before.

 

She was still on pretty strong pain meds and antibiotics but she refused to just lie in bed all day and had managed to convince Bridget to convince Vera to let her visit the girls. She'd had an appointment that morning anyway and Gidge had caved after she'd presented her with a physical list of (mostly serious) reasons it would be good for her. The psychologist had heard all about the escape plan now, and knew Franky felt guilty for using her 'family’ to get out. Now that her life seemed back on track and heading to happiness, the guilt had been getting worse.

_ “I don't want to rub it in Gidge, I just need them to know how grateful I am. And that I still care about them.” _

 

Vera had made special arrangements, and spared her going through the normal rigmarole but it was still unbelievably weird to be in that place. Bridget hadn't hesitated when Franky had asked her to go in with her though, and that helped. 

The visit was nice. It was special. Booms wouldn't stop staring at her, Liz kept crying, and Allie wouldn't shut up about how amazing the whole thing was. And she got to thank them, and tell them she loved them, and even confirm that “yes Booms, Ms Westfall is ma chick.” Neither Allie nor Liz seemed too shocked by that little revelation, “You're a lucky bitch Doyle!” and “I'm happy for ya love. She's a good 'un.” But when she made Bridget come over and be introduced as her “partner”, Boomer had bombarded them with questions about how and when.

“And like, you're gonna look after her, right?”

“Yes Boomer, I promise. As long as she lets me.”

At which point Franky couldn't resist leaning toward Bridget and proclaiming, “Aw Gidge, I always let you  _ look after  _ me” with a nudge and a wink at Boomer. The three inmates laughed at her antics but it earned her an eye-roll from the woman in question.

There were hugs all round before she left, and promises to keep in touch and behave herself. She'd be lying if she said there wasn't still a pang of guilt having to watch the girls be ushered back out towards the units, but it was mixed in with a surge of relief that she got to exit out the front.

 

It was later that night, after they'd had dinner and Franky had taken her medication cocktail again, that things took a turn. The couple were lying in bed, Franky finally finding a comfortable position with her arm immobilised while Bridget read a few chapters of some novel. She had been recounting the conversations that Bridget had missed when she had been talking to Vera. 

“And Liz said she was fine but Booms was giving her some shifty looks so something must be going on, right?” 

“I really don't know baby.” Bridget replied, flipping a page.

Franky sighed, “Yeah. It's just hard not to worry. And did you see Allie? She's def lost more weight. I could feel it as soon as she hugged me, it was obvious. But she just kept saying she was fine too!”

There was silence where Franky had expected reassurance so she turned her head to face the woman beside her. Bridget was still staring at her book so Franky repeated her point.

“Hey. Allie. Ya reckon she's ok?”

This time Bridget sighed and closed her book, perching it on her bedside table. 

“I reckon you know her better than me, so I couldn't really say.” She shrugged and placed a quick kiss on Franky's cheek, then shuffled over and flicked the light off.

“G’night then!” the brunette laughed, a little bit shocked by the dismissal.

Most nights Bridget would read until Franky's meds kicked in and she fell asleep first, but the older woman had already turned over to face away from Franky. 

“Night baby.”

Franky wanted to investigate. She needed to know what she'd missed that caused Bridget to react like that. But the sudden darkness had been like a trigger for her pills and she was immediately losing the battle to stay awake.

“Love you” she managed to exhale. She hoped the quiet “me too” she heard in reply was real and not just her imagination.

 

The following morning saw Franky wake up alone, and once she'd been to the bathroom and pulled some trackies on, a quick wander through the house confirmed her suspicions that Bridget was gone. The fact annoyed her because as she'd been brushing her teeth she'd remembered the weird vibe before she'd fallen asleep. Plus it was unusual for Bridget to go anywhere without telling her, even before she'd ended up back inside. She'd barely let Franky out of her sight since she was released, not that Franky minded. Sex had been taken off the table until her shoulder had healed a bit more, but spending her days cuddled up and chatting with Gidge was the best way she could think of spending her new-found freedom. She'd been worried about living together again, worried she'd feel like a stranger to Bridget, but they'd promised to be open with their feelings and it had been working. At least she thought it had.

 

It was another twenty minutes before the front door opened and Franky stood up from the dining table to greet Bridget. Her first thought was how good she looked in her dark skinny jeans and light blue t-shirt. Her second thought was that she looked tense. 

“Hey baby. Just nipped to the shops.” The woman turned away to put some milk in the fridge and Franky decided to just attack the weird mood face on, so she rounded the breakfast bar and stood right behind her.

“Hey.”

Bridget jumped at how close she was and slammed the fridge closed. 

“Shit! Franky.”

“Sorry. Just missed ya.” 

She reached out and gripped Bridget's waist with her good arm so she could pull her in for a kiss. It wasn't much more than a peck but the shorter woman was slow to pull away from her so she took it as a good sign and leaned back in for a longer kiss. This time she felt Bridget relax into her and when they parted contact she was pleased to see a smile on her face.

“Sooo, how come you snuck out so bloody early? I missed my morning cuddle.” Franky joked, and watched with interest as the smile on Bridget's face became tighter and less genuine.

“Uh, I just woke up with a bit of a headache and thought getting out for a while might help.”

“Mmmhmm… so nothing to do with last night then?”

Bridget's complete lack of poker face outside her office had always amused Franky, but as she watched her shrug and try to look confused she could feel herself getting annoyed.

“Come on Gidge! You were totally weird last night. You were practically ignoring me and then you just flipped the light and turned over. Something's up.”

Bridget stepped back until she was leaning against the counter but still said nothing.

“Come on! What did I do? Is it because of the girls?”

Franky had scanned over the previous day in her mind and realised that her girlfriend had been quiet since they'd left Wentworth so decided to put her theory out there. 

“Because I'm not stupid. If you're worried I'm gunna get dragged into some shit again then stop. I learned my lesson with Red and Shane and that fucking gun. I can keep in touch and keep my distance at the same time.”

Still getting no response from the other woman, she threw her left hand in the air in exasperation and moved round to perch on the nearest bar stool.

“This is bullshit Bridget. We've spent two weeks being honest, telling each other everything…”

“Well maybe that's the problem!” Bridget interrupted, “maybe there are things I wish I _didn't_ know.”

Franky was confused, and a small knot of worry was starting to form in her belly.

“Like?”

There was silence again for a few seconds, as Bridget seemed to contemplate what to say. It dragged on and Franky's ball of worry just grew until she heard the quiet reply.

“Allie.”

Franky shook her head, trying to make sense of the answer. “What about her?” She swallowed as Bridget gave her a look of disbelief. “I thought, well, I thought you were okay with all that stuff.”

“Yeah well so did I,” Bridget laughed sadly, “But when you told me last week it was easier to write it off in amongst all the other confessions. Didn't account for how I'd feel actually seeing the two of you together again so soon.” She crossed her arms and stared past Franky towards the lemon tree in the back garden.

“Nuh. Nuh. Gidge this is stupid. I told you, it was a 30 second fumble! A kiss and a grope. That was it.”

“That was only it because  **she** stopped it. That's what you said. Well what if she hadn't Franky, huh? Would you have fucked her before I'd even gotten home that day?”

The brunette could feel her insides churning at the pointed look she was receiving. She felt guilty, obviously, but also confused about how important this seemed to be suddenly when Bridget had accepted it the week before. She decided honesty was still her best bet.

“I don't know. I really don't. But I do know that it wouldn't have meant anything. I was devastated Gidge. I was sad and angry and Allie was just there and I guess I wanted to hurt both of us. Or numb it out. Or, fuck I don't know. But I'm so glad we stopped. The whole thing, it just didn't matter.”

“Well it matters to me!” Bridget shouted, and then looked as surprised as Franky was by the outburst. 

It wasn't in Bridget's nature to scream and shout. That was Franky's domain when they occasionally argued. Bridget could seethe, she could get mean, but she rarely ever raised her voice and Franky genuinely didn't know how to respond.

 

Time passed but before she could form a sentence, a bottle of water was placed in front of her. She looked up as Bridget undid the cap for her and then backed off again to sip from her own bottle. Franky wanted to smile, partly at the thoughtfulness but mostly because it was their thing. Or Bridget's anyway. Whenever they disagreed or argued they always had to have a glass of water or cup of tea handy. It was probably a therapy thing, but Bridget explained that it helped ground her and “de-escalate her thoughts”. Whatever the logic, it usually worked and calmed the situation down. 

 

“Thank you. And you're right, of course it matters. But I was honestly just hurting Gidge. I felt like you'd abandoned me like everyone else and it was my own fault. You did say 'clean break’ though so...

“I didn't think you'd bloody jump on someone else straight away. I just needed space.”

“Well I didn't fuckin’ know that.”

“Franky!” Bridget looked at her like she was crazy. “You called me a couple of weeks later, knowing full well I'd come running. You knew I still loved you!”

“Well I hoped you did. But that isn't the point. You left me in there! And yeah, before I went and cried myself to sleep like a fucking kid, I made a mistake. And I'm sorry.”

She had said that phrase a lot since being released, and meant it every time. She just hoped Bridget could feel her regret and not give up on her. 

“But I told you the truth when I didn't have to,” she said softly, pushing past the lump in her throat, “I don't want secrets from you, I want to start over.” 

 

Bridget's shoulders slumped and she moved forward to lean on the breakfast bar, closer to Franky but still not within touching distance. When she looked up they made eye contact and Franky's hopeful smile was met with a slightly sadder one.

“I do too baby. I do. It's just… it just hurts. And the worst part is that I keep hearing fucking _Ferguson's_ voice in my head!”

“Ferguson? What does she have to do with this?” Franky was even more confused and the pain in her guts just wouldn't go away.

Bridget released a small laugh and shook her head, seeming almost embarrassed to explain.

“That day, when she caught you and Allie doing… whatever, in the laundry. When she told me she took great delight in highlighting how much younger and prettier Allie was. How you had “upgraded” so quickly. She knew she'd hit a nerve. I'd watched the two of you get close in there. And then I find out you went running to her as soon as I left and it just, it doesn't feel good.”

 

Insecurity was something Franky was intimately acquainted with. She'd felt it constantly since she was a kid, and it had driven her to some dark places. But the one person who had made that feeling go away was stood in front of her confessing her own, and it was because of Franky. She suddenly realised that as insignificant as the moment with Allie had been to her, it was a betrayal to the woman she loved, and one that had made her doubt what they had.

 

“Gidge,” she reached her hand out palm up and was filled with relief when Bridget slipped hers on top. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry I fell back into my old ways in there. I'm sorry it's ended up causing you pain. Again! But I swear to you it had nothing to do with Allie. She was just there, and I don't think I even really looked at her. I was in self-destruct mode. When you walked out your office my brain just shut down.”

She glanced up to make sure Bridget was listening, and to take a deep breath before she continued. The light squeeze of her hand was the reassurance she needed.

“I don't give a stuff about age. I don't think I even asked yours until we'd been together a month or so, remember? I just never think about it. So fuck Ferguson for putting that in your head! And yeah, Allie's pretty. But Gidge I never looked at her like that. She was a mate, she was Bea's girl, and we helped each other. But that was it. I was in love with you and she still loved Bea. Truth is I haven't looked at anyone like that since I met you. In prison, out of prison, I've only wanted you.”

She slid over on her seat so that she was facing Bridget and lifted their joined hands to kiss the other woman's knuckles.

“I know you've been cheated on before but it wasn't like that. You, Bridget Westfall, are the smartest, prettiest, sexiest, funniest, kindest person I've ever met. That connection between us, right from the start, is like nothing I have ever or will ever feel again. When I was in that boxcar, pretty fuckin’ sure I was going to die, all I wanted was more time with ya. I meant everything I said…”

“So did I.” Bridget whispered, and gave Franky the first real smile she'd seen that day.

“So I'm sorry I didn't give you time to process everything this week. I didn't think about how I'd feel if it had been the other way round, which would have been bloody furious I reckon,” she shook her head as the fleeting thought of her girl being with someone else passed through her mind. 

“But I didn't want Allie. I can keep saying sorry, as many times as you need, but I don't want anyone but you. And not being allowed to show you just how much I want you has been driving me mad this week actually. Honestly, I've been doing all sorts to ya in my dreams!” She waggled her eyebrows and was relieved when she heard her favourite laugh in response.

 

“I think that might be part of it if I'm honest. We've been disconnected physically for so long, and seeing you sitting with Allie yesterday just reminded me that she's the last person that touched you…”

“Nah Gidget. She really didn't. It was a few kisses I swear. And I wouldn't have let her touch me even if we…well you know. It wasn't about that. The last person to touch me was you. That night before I got arrested, when you were practically falling asleep but you wouldn't give in til I got off, yeah?”

The blonde woman smiled wryly at the memory. “I knew something was on your mind so I thought a distraction might help. Knowing what I do now of course, I suspect it would have taken more than an orgasm to help you sleep!”

Franky laughed out loud at the truth of the comment and the absurdity that the last year of her life had been. 

“Yeah, well, it was a good one and I probably was a bit more relaxed when I got arrested than I would have been otherwise.” She joked back, before making her tone more serious again. “But every touch and kiss with you, every time I hold your hand is more intimate than anything I've had with anyone else. You know that.”

She stared into blue eyes, willing them to believe her, pleading with them to see the truth in her words. It was intense until finally Bridget gave her a little nod.

 

“I feel like a bit of a fool for all this now. It just hit me when I saw the two of you yesterday and I couldn't get those doubts out of my head. I thought going out this morning might clear my mind but I think some reassurance was probably what I really needed. So thank you for pushing me to talk.”

“Ay, I learned from the best didn't I?” Franky replied with a cheeky wink.

“Ha, the best at not taking my own advice.”

 

Bridget paused and walked around until she was beside Franky, never dropping her hand. “Will you promise me though, that if you do ever meet anyone else that you'll tell me…”

'Not gunna happen Gidget. You're it. You're stuck with me. You can't go all Thelma and Louise with a girl and then think you won't be together for the rest of your lives!”

“Hmm, that so?” Asked Bridget as she lowered her head to lean against Franky's.

“Yup. Forever.” she confirmed, nuzzling against the blonde hair tickling her cheek. 

 

They stayed like that for a minute, just letting all of their words and their emotions settle. Franky had been stupid to drop so many bombshells on her partner and expect her just to blindly accept them. She'd been so overwhelmed at being home and feeling safe again that the things she had done to survive, done to Bridget, had immediately felt like a lifetime ago. But many of them were news to the woman who had risked her whole life to save her and she had to deal with that.

 

“I want you to trust me again. I _need_ you to. But I get that it might not happen right away, so do you want me to maybe go to my dad's for a bit? Give you some room?” It was decidedly not what Franky wanted, but she was willing to do anything to make sure her and Bridget would be okay in the long run.

Bridget pulled back so she could look at her, and Franky could see several emotions pass over her face before she spoke.

“No. I don't want that. You live here Franky, and I love you. If we're going to get through all of this then we have to do it together. I'm sorry I didn't handle this better. Yesterday was important to you and I've made it about me and my stupid jealousy!”

“Stop it.” She interrupted. “You haven't changed anything about yesterday. I got to see the girls and it was great. End of. And it's not stupid jealousy, you're right to be mad at me about it. Like you are about all of the other shit I put you through. I just need you to believe it wasn't about wanting someone else, it was about losing _you_. All this crap about your age or you not realising how beautiful you are, I guess I'll just have to work extra hard to convince you from now on.”

She smirked and grabbed a handful of Bridget's t-shirt, kneading the material and the warm skin underneath. “And if that happens to include giving ya loads of screaming orgasms as soon as this arm is better, then I'm willing to commit to that.”

The turmoil in her stomach finally calmed down as she heard the deep laugh that burst out of her favourite person.

“I don't know darling, that's quite a commitment. I might take a _lot_ of convincing…” Bridget fired back, widening her eyes and draping her arms around Franky's neck.

Franky smirked and slid her hand up to cradle the face she'd never get tired of looking at.

“Just as well l said forever then, ay?”

  
  



	3. Burden of Proof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was the last one of these I had planned, but the comments have been so lovely that I'm happy to think about some more if people are still interested. Please let me know, and suggest any conversations you'd still like to see.  
> Thanks for reading!

Franky tossed the magazine she'd been reading back onto the coffee table as Bridget walked inside from the garden. It was late afternoon and they'd been sitting outside having a coffee when the psychologist's mobile had rung. Thinking it was probably work-related Franky had left her to it, although given it was a Saturday she was a little annoyed at the interruption. 

Bridget had been back at work for over a month and Franky wasn't ashamed to admit she missed her during the week and spent weekends glued to her side. There was an entry-level  job waiting for her at Legal Aid again but she had to finish up another few weeks of physical therapy before she was allowed to start. Maybe being around people that weren't Bridget, her dad or Tess again would make her a bit less clingy. She doubted it though.

 

“Mmm, so that was Vera.” Bridget said as she took a seat beside her and slipped her phone in her jeans pocket.

“Oh. And what did the lovely governor want? Checking if you'd seen sense and chucked me out yet?” Her laughter was met with a disapproving creased brow.

“No. Of course not.” Bridget inhaled before adding, “She did ask if she could come over later though.”

“Giiiidge,” Franky whined, “it's the weeeeekend!”

Bridget tried to look annoyed at her antics, but in truth she was mostly amused.

“I'm aware of that. But it's not work baby, it's my friend sounding like she could do with a chat. She's got a lot going on.”

Franky snorted and muttered something under her breath; the only words Bridget could make out were “own fault”.

 

Bridget knew her partner and Vera would never be close friends, their relationship was far too complicated, but she needed them to at least tolerate each other again. 

“Look, we have a few hours before she'll be here. And she might not even stay very long. Ok?”

Franky pouted for a second before conceding defeat and releasing a drawn out “fine”.

“Thank you. Oh and don't mention Jake unless she does. I probably shouldn't have told you about that.” Bridget had let it slip when talking about Franky's escape one night, that Ferguson had manipulated a relationship between Vera and that idiot. She had refused to go into detail and she definitely hadn't mentioned the pregnancy though. That was between her and Vera.

 

“Jeez. Alright. Anything else off topic? We've got the rest of the arvo if you need to write a list,” Franky replied, rolling her eyes. 

Bridget pretended to ponder the question until the look of disbelief on the brunette's face made her laugh. Franky scowled and pushed herself further into the comfy grey couch.

 

“When did she tell ya anyway? You never said.”

“Oh.” Bridget thought back to the circumstances and decided just to be truthful. “Well she didn't actually. I'm not sure if she would have. I found out by accident.”

“Urgh, please don't tell me you walked in on them going at it. I'd have to wash my eyeballs on your behalf!”

Bridget slapped playfully at the arm Franky had draped along the back of the couch.

“No,” she said, “it was just bad timing. I turned up at Vera's unannounced one night and Jake came home from work while I was there. Thus the beans were spilled.”

“Hang on, that sounds a bit too much like a booty call Gidge!”

Bridget laughed but she was starting to feel nervous about where the conversation was headed. 

“No, definitely not that. I… well I was drunk. It was the night before I resigned and I was in a bit of a state. Something had happened at work and I wanted to apologise. I mostly ended up crying on her shoulder though.”

She had tried to sound light-hearted but when she looked up she could see Franky was staring at her, analysing what she'd said.

 

“You never said anything had happened. Why were you so upset? Was it the Allie thing?” She asked gently.

“No. Well it was part of it. But it was Liz really.”

Bridget ignored the confusion spread across Franky's face and decided to just come clean.

“I wasn't coping. I told you that. But I didn't tell you how bad it got. I, well, I was drinking a lot at that point. Every night. But that day I'd gone out for lunch and ended up having a couple of wines and when  I came back I bumped into Liz. She wanted my help and I was just useless and she figured out why pretty quickly. Alcoholic radar maybe, ha! She gave me a talking to and reported me to Vera. And rightly so." She rubbed her face, recalling how much of a failure she had felt that day. 

"I realised that night that I was just letting everyone down so I went to talk to Vera and that's when I found out about Jake. She hadn't even trusted me enough to tell me.”

 

The silence that descended was uncomfortable. Bridget glanced at the woman beside her and noted how deep in thought she was. Bridget's worst fear was that Franky would judge her, that despite all the promises they had made she would look at her differently knowing what a mess she had been. 

 

“Well for a start, you're not an alcoholic Bridget. There's a difference between using grog and abusing it. And yeah, maybe you crossed that line a bit. So does most of this flamin’ country at the weekends! But I've known alcoholics, I've lived with them. That isn't you. You were using it to numb shit out, but that's normal given the situation. I know I've taken the piss out of you and your “wind-down wines” before, but I've never for a second thought you had a problem. You're not like Liz. She had a decent life, kids, a husband. It didn't matter because booze has a hold of her. She has to fight that every day because when she's on the piss she's a different person.”

 

Bridget sighed and tucked her legs underneath her, the shame she had swallowed down now making her want to curl in on herself.

“That’s why I didn't want you to know. I was scared it would remind you of that. Or of your mum,” she added quietly.

 

“Fuck! You for real? Gidget you are  **nothing** like my piece of shit mother,” Franky said, her voice getting louder and more high-pitched as she continued. “She was a violent, nasty bitch even without drink. You should hear some of my dad's stories about her and what she did to him, even before I came along.”

The animated woman took a breath to calm herself back down.

“When  _ you _ get drunk you get daft and giggly, or you get a bit quiet and think too much. You don't scream and throw shit and hurt the  people around you. And I know I wasn't here, but you've always known when to stop and the fact you were still getting up and driving to that shithole every day makes  _ me _ think it wasn't as bad as  _ you _ think.”

  
“I don't know baby. It got… I scared myself for a while. Things just got so bad.”

Franky dropped her arm so that she could stroke Bridget's leg, her own guilt about the situation starting to take hold of her.

“Tell me?”

 

The change in their relationship had not gone unnoticed by Bridget. Where, in the beginning, she'd had to coax and push at Franky to open up and communicate her feelings, it was now more common for Franky to be the one offering up her thoughts freely and trying to get Bridget to do the same. She supposed it had to do with her job, spending so many hours keeping herself in neutral mode took a toll. Franky was not the first girlfriend to notice the fact but she was the first not to use it against her. It made her more determined to give her the honesty she deserved.

 

“It was nothing compared to what you went through, I know that. You were locked up and in danger.” She held a hand up to stop Franky disagreeing with her. “But it was hard. In a strange way, you going back inside was going back to the familiar. You went back to people who loved you. Liz, Boomer, Doreen… you knew the place. You lived there, with them, longer than you'd lived with me. And you knew I was there every day if you wanted to see me. But you didn't. I'd spend my days catching glimpses of you and then you'd push me away.”

She paused and looked around the room, thankful that Franky stayed quiet and gave her a chance to sort her thoughts.

“And then I'd come home. But it wasn't  _ home  _ anymore because you were missing. Your things were still where you left them but you were just gone. It took me months to move anything of yours, but when I quit I finally boxed some stuff up and put it in the garage. Which was lucky when the cops came looking around!” She laughed, but Franky was just looking at her with sadness on her face so she grabbed the hand on her thigh and linked their fingers together.

“The place just felt empty. No, no, actually, it felt haunted. Like your presence was still here. I'd come home from work and still expect to see you making dinner. I'd hear a noise while I was working and automatically think “it's just Franky" but then realise it couldn't be and I'd have to go and check. For weeks your pillow still smelled like you so I'd turn over during the night and forget for a minute that you weren't there. I was grieving and lonely and I couldn't talk to anybody. Well, except Vera, but that was complicated obviously.”

 

She stopped again and closed her eyes for a second, feeling the pain she was describing creep back in again. Franky seemed to sense it and slid over so she was pressed against her. She opened her eyes and noticed that the green ones in front of her looked shiny, so she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Franky's lips in an attempt to comfort her before continuing.

 

“Once things really broke down between us, after that day in your cell, I couldn't sleep. I'd just lie and worry about you or get up and watch telly but that's when the drinking really started to increase. I'd start when I got home and not really stop until I was ready to pass out. Then I'd have to take paracetamol and caffeine pills to get me through the day, and the whole thing just became a cycle of me fucking things up. All the advice I'd given other people on how to deal with things just went out the window. And still I knew things were so much worse for you…”

Franky shook her head. “It wasn't a competition Gidge. We were both in the shittiest of situations. I missed you every bit as much. It was just different kinds of pain and different ways to cope, wasn't it?”

Bridget tilted her head and gazed at the younger woman. “You're very wise Franky Doyle.”

The compliment was greeted with a slight blush and a “pfft” sound of disagreement, which just made Bridget smile before she continued.

“I never gave up on you when I left that place. I still loved you more than anything but I needed to function again, for both of us. I knew that whatever happened I needed to be strong again. And I was so ashamed of being caught. You know how much I cared about that job. So I stopped drinking that night, avoided the bottle shop completely. I tidied the house, I got new clients, I started taking care of myself again… but there was still a huge part of me missing.”

“Yeah,” Franky nodded, “I know that feeling. Felt it every single day. It's why I kept busy with the escape plans, and helping Dor, helping fuckin’ Iman! When I stopped or was alone  all I felt was that ache. I'm sorry I didn't notice what was happening to you.”

 

Bridget adjusted her body so that she could wrap her arms around Franky, and the taller woman quickly returned the hug. There was nothing either of them could do to fix what they had gone through, together and apart. But every time Bridget exposed herself and was met with nothing but acceptance, she fell even harder for the gorgeous woman in her arms.

 

“Gidge, if that's why you haven't had a drink since I came home then please stop being scared. I thought it was because I couldn't. But you just said you stopped drinking by yourself, in one go. Alcoholics can't do that and keep it up with no support. You're not an addict!” Franky stated firmly with a shake of her head and a smile. 

“Look, I'm not going to encourage you  _ or  _ put you off. It's up to you. Once my meds are finished I'll probably go back to the odd glass with dinner. Or one of those fancy as fuck cocktails you introduced me to when we go out. You're not alone now, you're not hiding anything. And I trust you Gidge, so you should trust yourself, yeah?”

 

Bridget considered Franky's words and how she was indeed in a very different place now than she had been when she'd spiralled. She'd never let her drinking get out of hand before so maybe she could stop worrying and take the advice and trust being offered to her.

“Ok. I was just scared for a while. I don't ever want to slip into that place again but I guess I'll see how I go.”

“Good. 'Cause I happen to be really bloody fond of tipsy Bridget. She's got no filter and she gets proper handsy,” Franky said, with a wink added for affect.

“Hmmm. So you mean she's just sober Franky then?” Bridget joked back, and giggled at the affronted look she was given.

 

“You love me being handsy, don't deny it.”

The brunette snaked one hand around from Bridget's back and brushed it over her breast and up to rest against her neck, eliciting a tiny shiver that made Franky grin.

“Maybe,” Bridget breathed.

“Maybe, my arse!” Franky laughed, before turning serious again. “Thank you for telling me all that though. I could see you were worried but it's me Gidget. It doesn't change anything. I know who you are.”

 

That moment might have been the most  _ seen  _ Bridget had ever felt, because it was true: Franky knew who she was. The good and the bad. And she saw Franky in that same way. She saw the person underneath, the faults and the gifts, the contradictions, the strengths and weaknesses. And she loved every part of her. Had done since they met and shared those tentative smiles through a tiny cell window. 

 

She kissed Franky then, hard, trying to physically convey the thoughts in her head. Franky moaned and pulled her closer, then slowly leaned against her until Bridget was flat and stretched out underneath the warm body on top of her. She had one hand tangled in long, dark hair and the other pressed against Franky's lower back, encouraging the gentle rocking motion that her hips had started. 

 

Suddenly Franky pulled away and gasped in air. “How long 'til Vera gets here?”

“A while, don't worry.” Bridget answered, desperate to get back to what they were doing.

“Good. And hey, remember you can have a drink with her if ya want…”

“Mmmhmm…”

Franky stopped moving entirely for a second and looked straight into glazed blue eyes, adopting a challenging look, but one that Bridget could tell wasn't serious.

“Just no more late night booty calls, eh? She's single now and I…”

“Shush,” Bridget laughed, “we’re on the clock here,” and silenced Franky with a kiss.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Without Prejudice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little bit different, but just another snapshot of where I'd like to think they are now.   
> Thank you to everyone who is reading these stories, and for the awesome feedback and suggestions.   
> Hope you enjoy!

The cafe was mercifully quiet for a Saturday afternoon, but the weather had been unpredictable for a few days and Franky guessed most people were spending the weekend indoors. She spotted her dad straight away, hovering near the counter, and returned the smile he sent her way.

They made small talk while waiting for their coffees and then picked a small table near the back wall. She still caught people glancing at her from time to time and preferred keeping a low profile when she was out.

 

Franky rummaged in the canvas shopping bag she had slung over her shoulder until she found the object she was looking for. 

“Ta da! It must have gotten kicked under the bed when we were packing her stuff up.”

She presented the slightly battered looking book to her dad and he gladly accepted it. Tess had stayed with her and Bridget during the week to let her parents get away and celebrate an anniversary, but after she'd been dropped home on Friday she'd discovered her favourite book of fairy tales wasn't in her bag. Given she had developed a tummy bug and having witnessed first-hand the kind of tantrum her little sister was capable of, she'd agreed to meet her dad to deliver it. 

“You're a lifesaver kiddo. Bedtime was a bit of a nightmare last night. How's Bridget doing?”

Franky laughed as she thought of the poor woman she'd left at home. It had been easier for Bridget to rearrange her hours for the week than Franky, so she had been the one to spend the most time with Tess. On Wednesday the little girl had been sick at school and needed picked up and kept home, and by Thursday night Bridget had caught the bug and been a shivery, vomiting invalid herself. Franky had called in sick on Friday to look after them both.

“Eh, she's ok. No puking since yesterday afternoon, so that's something. I left her on the couch with a blanket and plenty of fluids. What about the munchkin?” She asked.

“Same. We haven't had any sick so looks like it's gone. Sorry you had to deal with it. And apologise to Bridget, yeah?”

The man looked so guilty that Franky just shook her head and smiled at him.

“It's fine dad, nobody's fault. Her teacher told Gidge half the class had gotten it before it reached Tess so if anything we were lucky.”

“Bet Bridget's not in a rush to babysit again though?”

“What? Nah, she loved it. Honest! I had to stay late on Tuesday night and when I got home the pair of them were on the couch, in their jammies, drinking Milo and singing along to some Disney film. I swear it might have been the cutest fuckin’ thing I've ever seen.” 

She grinned at the memory of her favourite girls demanding she immediately put her pajamas on and join them.

“Aww, that's good. Tess loves the pair of you. It was her that asked if she could stay with you instead of her nan.”

“Well we  _ are _ pretty awesome dad.” Franky shrugged and pretended to be nonchalant, but hearing those words filled her with warmth and more than a little bit of relief. Tess had been unsure around her again when she's gotten released. She didn't blame the kid, she'd vanished from her life for months, but rebuilding her trust had been a priority for Franky and it seemed to have paid off.

 

“You two would make good mums by the looks of it,” her dad said, and then raised his eyebrows in question as he sipped his coffee.F

 

Franky had wondered if her dad would ever ask her outright about kids. He'd dropped some less than subtle hints about the topic when she'd spent time with Tess before but she'd always brushed them off.

“I'm afraid you're gonna have to wait on Tess to make you a grandad, if that's what you're getting at. Kids aren't in the picture for us.”

The disappointed look flashed over the man's face quickly, but Franky still saw it and it made her defensive.

“Not everyone wants rugrats dad. We're fine just the two of us.”

“Yeah, course, love,” he nodded, “you're just real good with Tess so I thought you'd maybe want one of your own. There's ways to do it now for… well for two women…”

“Jeez dad, I know that! It's not the mechanics that put me off. It's more complicated than that.”

She didn't want to get angry, but she was already anxious by being outside without Bridget so her hackles were up. Work was fine: she drove there, she kept her head down, her co-workers all knew the situation already. But public places still made her tense, so she wasn't in the mood for serious conversations or feeling judged.

 

Her dad stayed quiet however, and was looking at her like he expected her to explain, so she sighed and took a gulp of coffee before continuing.

“I love being Tess's big sister, but I've never felt  _ maternal _ before. Kids just always freaked me out or pissed me off. It felt like there was always a bloody crying baby in the foster homes.” 

She rolled her eyes, remembering being shouted at over the slightest noise she made by the family she lasted longest with. The entire world had revolved around that baby, and they never let Franky anywhere near it. Those memories came back whenever there were little ones around in the prison. She never felt good enough to be around them, scared she'd do something wrong.

 

“And then there's me. I mean I know Bridget would be amazing, but I'm still _me_ and I don't think I'd be good at it. I'm too selfish. And I still get angry. Look at what I've done to people. Shit, I'm surprised you even trust me with Tess.” 

She meant it. It did still surprise her, the faith her dad had in her. But then he didn't know the person she'd been before. He'd had one glimpse, one brief visit to that world, but he didn't know what she had done in there. If he did, maybe he wouldn't be so understanding.

 

“That's shit Franky. Tess thinks the world of you, same as me, because you're kind and caring and…”

“Yeah but what if that changed? What if a baby changed that? You said it, you told me mum changed after having me. Everything got worse. Her moods, her temper, her drinking… I wouldn't ever wanna take that risk.” She shook her head and frowned, wiping her suddenly sweaty palms on her jean-clad thighs.

She had only ever talked to Bridget about this stuff, and after getting all her fears and reservations out they had both agreed that children were not on their agenda. Bridget had never really considered it either so it wasn't a sacrifice on her part, just an agreement that they only needed each other to be happy.

 

“Your mum was ill though. She wasn't right. We were too young but I thought maybe a baby would be good for us. But it just made her worse and when I tried to help she just wouldn't let me. I should never have left you with her, you know how sorry I am, but don't let her stop you doing anything. She doesn't deserve that power.”

Her dad looked so sincere, and so repentant that for a second Franky was scared she might cry. Whenever they talked about the past one or both of them usually ended up getting emotional. Some wounds were more raw than others. But they were in public so instead she cleared her throat and leaned forward with her elbows on the table.

“I know. I know that. But it still doesn't feel like something I ever wanna do. I don't have that  _ urge  _ people talk about. And honestly dad, my body's been through a ton of shit over the years, I really don't fancy being pregnant. Gidge and I talked about all this a while ago and we both agreed we're happy just to be together and get to watch and help Tess grow up. That's enough.” 

She smiled and reached across to pat the man's hand in reassurance.

“Yeah. Yeah, you're right. I just want you to be happy. And I'm glad you feel like that about Tess because… well… I've made this new mate at work.”

 

Franky slumped back in her seat and crossed her arms, confused about the turn in conversation.

“Okaaay?”

“Yeah, and she's like you…”

“Gorgeous and smart? Sounds dangerous dad, you got a wandering eye?” She winked.

Her dad shook his head, accustomed to her quips. “No, that's not it. She's like you 'cause she's gay. Except she's, umm, am I alright to say  _ butch _ ?”

The slight panic on his face made Franky laugh out loud.

“Yer fine dad. You can say it. You don't mean it offensively right?”

“No, god no,” he replied, “she's just different from you. I know you're not into dresses and that stuff but you're still  _ girly _ , and Bridget's all feminine and fancy…”

“Ha! You've never seen her putting a bookshelf together after a bottle of wine, dad.” Franky interrupted. Her voice was full of mirth, as she quickly recalled that particular evening and the fact even  _ she  _ had learned a few new swear words that night.

 

Her father raised an eyebrow as if to say “really?” but let the comment pass.

“Well I just mean Sal, that's her name, she's a bit more obvious. Shaved hair and all that.”

 

Franky was still a bit bewildered by the discussion but was secretly amused at how uncomfortable her dad was in trying to explain himself.

 

“She joined the firm months back and I heard some of the boys being dickheads to her, winding her up and calling her shit. But she got moved to my team last month and when we got talking I made a point of telling her about you. Just so she knew I wasn't gonna take the piss. And it worked, you know, she relaxed a bit and we get on good now. I stick up for her and the boys have backed off a bit.”

 

Franky was touched by what her dad was saying. She knew he was a good man, knew that was where she got her “big softie” side from, as Bridget called it. But hearing that he went out of his way for this woman just because she was a lesbian made her extra proud.

“That's really nice of you dad. Honest. But, eh, what does that have to do with me and Tess?”

 

He rubbed his hands over his head, a gesture Franky had noticed he did when he was feeling a bit shy or unsure of himself.

“Well I suppose it's just made me realise how hard life's been for you, love. I mean on top of your mum, and being in care and all that, you had to deal with this stuff too. Knowing you liked girls. And it doesn't bother me, I'd like to think it never would have, but I wasn't there, was I? When you were working it out or if people were calling you names. I wasn't around to protect you.”

 

The direction of the conversation had not gone in a way Franky could have predicted, and had ventured to uncharted ground. Her dad had known she was a lesbian when they reconnected so they'd never really talked about it. She'd asked him once, after she met Tess, if he was alright with it and he'd just patted her arm and said “course I am ya drongo”. That was the end of it. Tess knew 'Bridgie' was her girlfriend, for all she understood what that meant. She hadn't given his feelings on her sexuality much thought and didn't want to add to any guilt he felt now.

 

“It wasn't that bad really. I wasted a bit of time with guys until I figured out chicks were my thing, but to be honest I was so angry all the time that if anyone talked shit, I gave as good as I got. And then inside it was almost a bonus. Gave me an identity. Made the time pass a bit quicker too…” she winked and watched her dad's face turn a bit red at what she was insinuating. 

 

“Hmm, well. I'm glad. But I reckon it was a bit tougher than you're letting on.” 

He looked at her pointedly and Franky knew he might bring the topic up again at some point, but she just shrugged and flicked her hand dismissively. 

“But that's why I'm so glad you're in Tess's life. And Bridget obviously. I can't go back and fix things for you, but I want Tess to grow up knowing she can do anything and love anyone she wants. I reckon you're the best example she could have of that in her life, and you're the person I want her going to if she's got questions she can't ask her mum and me. You had to do it all on your own and look at ya! I'm so proud of you Franky, and I know Tess is gonna look up to you and need you around.” 

 

Oh. Her dad might have taken a while but she got the point of his story now. Sort of, anyway. He saw Franky as a success story. Wanted her to be a good example for someone. And if it wasn't going to be her own kids then he wanted it to be for Tess. A while ago the idea would have been ridiculous to Franky; who would want her as a role model? She was a criminal. She hurt people. But her dad just saw her as someone who had been through hell and come out stronger and better. 

There was pressure involved in what he was saying, responsibility she wasn't sure she was equipped for or deserved. But then she thought of Bridget, and how well they worked together and balanced each other out. It wouldn't just be Franky that Tess was getting, it would be them, as a team. And she already knew she would never let anyone hurt the little girl.

“She's my sister, of course I'll be there for her, it's in the job description. I really don't think I'm the hero you're making me out to be though. I've done a lot of bad things dad. Stuff there's no excuse for. And there's the whole prison thing I'm gonna have to explain to her at some point,” she said sadly, realising that day would probably change how Tess viewed her forever.

 

Her dad looked at her and Franky recognised the sad smile on his face as one she had often seen on her own. Sometimes it still felt unreal to see so much of herself in another person's features. She had gone so long with no blood relatives around that it was disconcerting at times.

 

“Nobody's perfect Franky. I know you don't talk to me about prison and I respect that. I've got mates who've been inside and I've heard all sorts about what goes on in there. And I'm not an idiot, I see you carry a lot of weight with you. But what matters is who you are now. I look at you and see my daughter, who helps strangers every day and loves her girl and her family. The odd  _ cautionary _ tale in amongst all the success stories isn't gonna do Tess any harm. You went in there as a messed up kid and came out with an education. And hey, my kid was smart enough to escape a maximum security prison, ya think I haven't been boasting about that to the boys?” her dad said, and stretched his arms out beside him, a cocky expression taking over his face.

“Fuck off! You do not.” Franky questioned, vaguely entertained by the thought that the whole horrific Pennisi ordeal had, if nothing else, earned her dad some bragging rights.

“I do so. Down the Royal they call you the Wentworth Houdini. You'd probably need an ambo if you took all the drink they'd shout you.”

 

They both started laughing then, Franky shocked yet slightly delighted at the idea of her nickname. The anxiety issues and regular stiffness in her shoulder were a constant reminder of how badly her escape could have ended, but if people wanted to celebrate the feat she wasn't going to be offended. 

“I guess I really am a hero then, eh?” She joked, breathing heavily from her laughter.

“Well you're certainly mine, love.”

  
  


 

She slipped back into the house quietly, expecting Bridget to be napping, but the woman in question was sitting up holding a book and looking much brighter than she had that morning.

“Heya! You feeling better?”

“Yup. Even managed to eat those sandwiches you left. How'd it go? How's bub?”

Franky languidly sunk into the couch and wrapped an arm around Bridget's shoulders before answering.

“All good. No more chunderin’ and she'll be stoked to get her book back.”

 

Bridget made a disgusted face at Franky's word choice, but the brunette just laughed and pulled her in for a kiss.

“Mmm. What was that for? Not that I'm complaining.”

“You better not be! We barely had a pash all week.” Franky gasped in mock outrage, before planting a quick succession of kisses all over Bridget's face.

“I'm just glad to see my _feminine_ , _fancy_ woman looking healthy again.” 

She was just glad to see her full stop if she was honest, and she knew Bridget had picked up on her uneasiness at going out alone. She also knew that both of them could do with some levity after their stressful week with Tess though, so any serious talk could wait a while.

Bridget pulled her head away and looked puzzled at her partner's words. “Your what?”

“Feminine, fancy… you know what, it doesn't matter. Just come here.”

She tried to kiss her again but Bridget pressed her hand against her chest to keep some distance.

“Are you drunk baby?”

Franky laughed at the confused expression in front of her. 

“Nope. Sober, your honour. Although I am excited because I just found out I'm a magician apparently.” She had laughed in the car on the way home every time she thought of the "Wentworth Houdini" title.

“Oh, I've heard this one before. Let me guess? You're going to make my clothes disappear? Really honey, you need better lines.” Bridget answered sarcastically, cradling Franky's face and wiggling her eyebrows.

 

After the confidence-boosting chat with her dad, and now staring at the beautiful, playful woman in front of her, Franky felt light again, yet full and anchored at the same time. It was overwhelming and perfect.

“I think we're passed that stage Gidge,” she chuckled, “There's only one line I ever need to use on you but if I say it right now it will feel cheesy. You know I can't be cheesy, I'm too cool for that.” She lifted her chin and puffed out her chest.

Bridget rolled her eyes and closed the gap between them, breaking the kiss briefly to mutter an “I love you too" against Franky's lips.

  
  
  
  



	5. Incontrovertible Evidence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure about posting this snippet because it's all just rambling emotions and headcanons and fluff!   
> But here it is, lol. So I hope you enjoy it. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who is still reading and giving kudos and commenting. It is all very much appreciated!

The front door closed with more of a bang than usual and Bridget listened as Franky removed her shoes and jacket and made her way to the living room where Bridget had been watching the news. She was home much later than Bridget had expected and as Franky bent down to place a kiss on the blonde woman's head, she could feel the tension being held in her body.

 

“Everything okay?” She asked, turning to face the younger woman who had slumped down into the seat beside her. The top few buttons of her shirt were undone and she looked thoroughly fed up.

“Hmm? Yeah. Fine. Just went for a drive. I should have called, sorry.”

“No worries. I made some pasta, I can go and heat it up for you if you want?” Bridget offered, starting to stand up but then being held in place by a hand on her leg.

 

“Can we just sit for a bit? I'm not that hungry.”

 

Bridget nodded and grasped the hand on her thigh to pull Franky closer to her, both of them manoeuvring until they were in a comfortable position leaning against one another. 

 

She was content just to wait Franky out and let her speak when she was ready. She had been struggling emotionally, more than usual, for a couple of weeks. There had been a complicated abuse case at work that had triggered some memories, and then a difficult phone call from Liz, where the extent of the prisoner’s recently diagnosed condition became evident. 

It had hit Franky hard, realising how ill the woman who was her surrogate mother had become. Bridget knew there was guilt present. Franky blamed herself for not noticing and not being able to do anything for her. 

Overwhelmingly though, there was sadness. Bridget felt it too, at the thought of slowly losing yourself in a place as lonely and cruel as Wentworth. Vera had assured Franky that Liz was being looked after but it did little to lift the low mood Franky had sunk into. Bridget had hoped booking an appointment with the counsellor she'd seen briefly after her release might help, but clearly the session had taken a toll.

 

“I don't want to do something stupid.” Franky eventually muttered.

“What do you mean, baby?” 

Franky sighed and moved away from her slightly, but Bridget placed a hand on her lower back, slowly tracing circles to help her relax.

“I saw John, and it was alright. I told him a bit about how I've been feeling and then we talked about what I usually do when I'm stressed or down. But that freaked me out 'cause it was all the old stuff I thought of, you know? Like from before? He said I used to be like a moth - a fucking moth, Gidge - because I always ran towards shit that I knew would end up hurting me or that I couldn't undo. Fighting, fucking, tattoos even. He said I never thought about the consequences because I just wanted to  _ feel _ something, or feel  _ different _ . And he's right, it's that old “self sabotage” crap” she said, making the quotation marks with her fingers, “and I don't want to do that again, to me or to you. But honestly, the urge is there.”

 

The defeated look on her face made Bridget want to wrap her arms around her, but she suspected that wasn't what Franky needed, and if anything it might make her put her walls back up.

 

“That's understandable Franky. It is. You're sad and those things all helped you in the past, regardless of how healthy they may or may not have been. But the fact you're conscious of that, and aware enough to try and fight the pull, shows just how bloody far you've come. Did talking about it help at least?”

 

Franky tilted her head to the side and Bridget could see how deeply she was thinking about her answer. She tried to never be  _ psychologist  _ Bridget with her, but it was difficult when they were specifically discussing her mental health. She knew she had to tread a fine line.

 

“Yes and no. I mean he said pretty much the same as you just did, but then he started talking about referrals and diagnoses again. Medication!” she exclaimed, flailing her arm. 

“That's why I stopped seeing him the first time. PTSD, BPD, GAD, fucking ABC! I don't  _ know _ if they fit me and I don't  _ want _ to know. I don't want more labels Gidge. I've got more than enough of them as it is.” 

Franky bit her lip, attempting to push back the turmoil she was feeling.

 

“Oh baby, that is 100% your choice. Absolutely! You're right, you don't need labels,” she emphasised, annoyed that her old colleague had brought all that up again.

”Those things he mentioned, they are all just different terms to describe the hundreds of different ways people have learned to deal with trauma. They  _ are _ serious conditions, but they all just describe the different symptoms and coping mechanisms people have. And you have experienced a  _ lot _ of trauma Franky, but John can't force you to see someone else, and he certainly can't prescribe you anything you don't want to take.”

She sighed. “I'm sorry he went down that route again. Maybe we could find someone new?”

 

Franky shook her head and flashed her a half-smile. “Nah. It's fine. I more or less told him to fuck off with that stuff and he seemed to get it. He showed me a few different breathing exercises before we finished and I'm gonna go back next week.”

 

Bridget nodded and rubbed Franky's back again, trying to calm down her own irritation at the situation as well as her partner's. 

She respected John. She'd worked with him years ago at a private practice, and he'd helped Franky deal with the anxiety she'd developed after ‘Wentworth Round Two’ and the shooting. But she was starting to doubt that he was the best fit for Franky. 

 

Of course Bridget had her own professional opinions about Franky's past and behaviour and what conditions she may have met the criteria for. She had spent weeks as her psychologist, analysing her emotions and reactions, before she realised that she'd jumped over her own ethical boundary without even noticing. But it wasn't her place to look at Franky like that now, it hadn't been for a long while. She was happy to switch that part of her off and just be the supportive girlfriend that the woman deserved. 

 

“I really don't want to be a fucking moth anymore Gidge, I don't want to fuck up. I know I've been miserable and I'm sorry if I'm taking it out on you. I don't mean to. I just can't stop feeling… shit. I can't sleep, I don't wanna eat, I just feel bloody tense all the time. Jesus, maybe I  _ should _ try some happy pills 'cause otherwise you're gonna get sick of me moping around and…”

 

“Stop.” Bridget interrupted, and swung her body around so that her legs were straddling Franky's thighs and the taller woman had no choice but to look at her. She kept her hands low on either side of Franky's waist, and was happy to feel Franky place her hands similarly.

 

“I will never get sick of you, Franky Doyle. Okay? Never. You're depressed and you're anxious, and you have valid reasons to be both right now. It doesn't mean I'm going anywhere though, alright?” She asked, and waited until she got a reluctant nod of agreement before she continued.

 

“I know it doesn't feel it right now but you are strong, baby. I need you to remember that. And whatever you think might help you just now, I'll support you, as long as it's positive. If it's meds, fine. If you want a tattoo, I'll come and hold your hand. If you want to use sex as a distraction, then as long as it's with me I'm not averse to the idea!” 

Franky laughed and gripped her tighter, and it spurred Bridget on.

“As long as the goal now is healing instead of hurting then I'm with you.”

 

Lips were quickly pressed against her neck as the brunette lay her head on Bridget's shoulder. 

 

“You're always gonna be too good for me.” Franky sighed, and made Bridget shiver with how warm her breath was against her skin. “And I'm probably always going to wonder why you put up with me. You know that, right?”

 

She did know that. She knew Franky would always need reassurance and for her feelings to be validated. It was a small price to pay in Bridget's eyes, to keep the woman she loved happy and feeling safe.

 

“Mmmhmm. And I'll always tell you the same thing. I love you. It's not about “putting up with you” or what you deserve, it's about what we both want and need. And I want and need you.”

 

“Even when I can barely crack a smile though?” Franky asked.

 

Bridget gently pushed Franky back, until she had lifted her head and was looking at her again.

 

“I don't  _ need  _ you to smile all the time Franky, but right now I need you to remember who you are. If I had to put a label on you, it would be the thing that first drew me to you, the thing I recognised the first day I met you. You, Franky Doyle, are defiant.”

 

A sceptical expression appeared on Franky's face. “And that's a good thing, is it?”

 

“Darling, it is the  _ best  _ thing. Life has thrown so much at you. People have been judging you and putting you in boxes your entire life and instead of accepting it, you just try to prove them wrong. You won't be defined by others or their labels. You refuse to just do what is expected of you. I watched you destroy a library just so you could solve your problem on your own terms, without giving in and asking for help! You could have given up after Ferguson killed Iman, accepted that fate, but instead you risked everything to clear your name and prove the cops were wrong.”

 

“That very nearly backfired Bridget, remember? And you weren't too happy about it at the time.”

 

“You're right,” she conceded, “but I didn't stop you either. I could have reported you numerous times, from the brawler to you showing up here, but I didn't. Because I know you and I knew you'd just keep trying. And because that little defiant voice in your head, the one that says “fuck this”, it's in my head too. That's why I recognised it.”

 

She paused and leaned her forehead against Franky's for a moment, matching the breaths Franky was taking with her own. She had tried to put all of this into words before, to articulate the connection she had immediately felt to the whirlwind in the white singlet, but she was never sure if her words did justice to the overwhelming pull she'd felt.

 

“Your childhood was all trauma and chaos and instability, but somewhere in amongst that you chose defiance rather than compliance as your way to survive. For me, my formative years were all about rules and repression and…”

 

“Nuns!” Franky exclaimed, forever amused by Bridget's Catholic education.

 

Bridget laughed. “Well yes, plenty of nuns! And expectations. By now I was supposed to be a content housewife with an entire brood of kids and a happy husband.”

 

Franky pretended to gag and Bridget nodded in agreement before continuing.

 

“But that little “fuck this” voice kicked in and instead I studied, and travelled, and embraced who I really was, regardless of what my family thought.”

 

“And thank fuck for that, eh.” 

 

“Exactly. Thank fuck for that voice. Because not everyone has it, and even those who do often ignore it. Even mine had gone sort of dormant for a while. I was just going through the motions. Everything had become about work and I was on autopilot… until you barged into my group session and lit the spark again.” 

 

She clasped Franky's shoulders and gave them a shake.

 

“You woke me up. As cliché as it sounds, the more time I spent with you the more I felt like  _ me  _ again. I wanted to do my job, I wanted to help you heal and get you ready for freedom, but something else was happening in that room. You challenged me, you saw me, and you forced me to look at myself.”

 

“I didn't mean to do all that.” Franky spoke up. “ But I get what you mean. I knew you were something special when you spoke up for me to Vera. When you stood up to the Freak. And when you let me away with all the flirting.” She winked and patted Bridget's bum.

 

“But after a session or two I realised it was more than that. You saw through my bullshit like it wasn't even there. You understood shit about me that even I'd never understood, and not in a therapy way, just as a person. It was like I wanted to fuck you and be your best friend and protect you all at the one time. And I'd never felt like that about someone before. 

I needed to impress you, needed you to  _ like  _ me, 'cause you were like a magnet. When you stopped the sessions I wasn't that bothered about my parole but it killed me not being near ya. It wasn't just physical, I missed your voice, I missed… everything. But I wasn't sure you were feeling it too until your little “transference” chat.”

 

Bridget dropped her head and let out a breathy laugh. She'd spent almost an hour summoning the courage to face Franky that day. She knew she was in far too deep with the inmate but she felt she owed her some semblance of honesty. She hadn't banked on Franky getting so close to her however, and it had taken all of her self-restraint to walk out of that kitchen alone. 

 

“Well I was definitely feeling it; I don't think I hid it very well. I just couldn't tell you the whole truth, not until I knew there was a chance for us.”

 

Franky raised her left hand and ran it through Bridget's hair, stopping to scratch at the base of her neck before repeating the gesture.

 

“And what was the whole truth?”

 

Bridget inhaled and leaned her head against Franky's hand.

“That I had completely fallen for you. That I felt like I had finally found what I didn't know I'd been looking for.”

 

“Fuck, when you say things like that…” Franky lunged forward and kissed her. 

 

They stayed that way for a while, ignoring the passing minutes and just connecting with each other. Kisses spreading out along jaws and down necks, fingers kneading and pulling at clothes, breaths gasped and held.

 

After a while Bridget sat back on Franky's legs and smiled at the dishevelled, aroused woman in front of her. 

 

“You made me brave again, baby. Every risk I took for you, for us, I'd do it all again in a heartbeat because at the end of it all I've got you. So I don't need you to be happy all the time, or strong. I just need you to believe there is nowhere else I'd rather be.”

 

“Me neither Gidge. I promise.” Franky whispered.

 

“Good. We'll get you through this rough patch, baby. You talk to John, you lean on me, you trust your instincts, and you say “fuck this” every time it feels too much. Because you are Franky Doyle and you don't stay down for long.”

 

Bridget was quite proud of her pep talk but the suggestive look that formed on Franky's face made her rethink what she'd just said.

 

“Dunno Gidget, sometimes I _stay_ _down_ for ages and you never usually complain…”

 

“Jesus, you just can't ever resist an innuendo, can you?” Bridget pinched Franky's arm in admonishment.

 

“Well according to you, our little rebel hearts can't be tamed.” The brunette woman shrugged her shoulders, as if to say it wasn't her fault. 

“Plus all that kissing and soulmate talk has planted my head firmly in the gutter. You're either gonna have to deal with it or I'm gonna have to change my undies.”

 

Bridget chuckled, but then cocked her head to one side and stared at her girlfriend.

 

“I didn't say anything about “soulmates”...”

 

A red tinge formed on Franky's cheeks and her pupils darted around, refusing to focus on Bridget.

 

“Well, yeah, but that's what you were… I mean it sounded like… Do you not feel like we're…”

 

Bridget planted a kiss on Franky's lips to put her out of her misery. 

“Yes.” she said quietly, as she pulled away.

 

The grin that faced her was one she knew well. It was the smile that said Franky was pleased with herself, but not in a cocky obnoxious way, just a happy little smirk that said she'd been right about something. 

 

“So, who is allowed to feel like shit and not worry about going through it alone?” Bridget asked jokingly.

 

“Me.”

 

“And who needs to stop worrying that they'll fuck everything up?”

 

“Meeeee.” Franky dragged out.

 

“And what is your most pressing requirement right now, sex or food? Because both are good for the soul and both are currently available.” Bridget raised her eyebrows and waited for a response.

 

“Oooh. I'm definitely inclined to pick sex, but what does the doctor recommend?” Franky flirted back, and Bridget was relieved to see some light back in what had been tired, sad eyes.

 

“Well, for a start, I'm still not a doctor…”

 

“Urgh,” Franky groaned, and threw her head back against the couch in mock exasperation.

 

Bridget giggled and backed herself off of the couch to stand with a hand held out.

 

Franky grabbed it in hers but paused and looked up at the woman above her.

 

“I'll never take it for granted Gidge. Whatever we call it, this connection we've got, I swear it's the most precious thing in my life. So I won't do anything stupid, I've got way too much to lose these days.” She kissed the palm she was holding and then placed it against her cheek.

 

“I feel the same, baby. And for the record I've always thought you were a butterfly.”

 

Bridget smiled as Franky furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

 

“Well moths can be pretty but they never change. But butterflies are beautiful and they require transformation.” she explained.

 

As the metaphor dawned on Franky, Bridget could see the emotion it evoked in her. She would happily spend the rest of her life finding ways to convince Franky of her worth, and her goodness, and the magnitude of her feelings for her. Franky made her feel all of those things without even trying most days. 

 

Once she had composed herself, the taller woman hopped up and gestured for Bridget to lead them to the bedroom.

 

“It's like living with my own personal Yoda sometimes,” she muttered, secretly thrilled by all of the little nuggets of wisdom her girlfriend could produce.

 

Bridget stopped dead in the hallway and fixed her with a stare.

 

“If that's another joke about my height, darling, you can heat up your own damn dinner.”

 

“What? I would never.” Franky placed her free hand over her heart and attempted to look sincere, despite the fact Bridget looked closer to breaking into laughter than she did. “But wait, does that mean I still get sex regardless?”

 

The light tug on her arm as Bridget turned back towards their room was all the answer she needed.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
